I Dreamed An Ending
by FireflyFanatic3x
Summary: Oneshot - 2000 words. After Dean tries to kill himself, Sam and Cas visit him in the hospital. Sam asks a favour of Cas, endangering his own life to get the chance to say goodbye... Rated T for a little language and themes of suicide. Warning - angst!


**Characters: **_**Dean, Sam, Cas**_

**Words: **_**2000**_

**Summary: **_**With Dean in the hospital, only a few hours left, Sam begs Castiel to let him have his last goodbye …**_

**Warnings: **_**Angst! Angst! Angst! Sorry … apparently the only things I write well are one-shots & angst. So here you go – having tissues handy is advised!**_

/watch?v=XvJ_FvomAh8** – the prequel to this fic (And kind of necessary to understand what's going on)**

/watch?v=aJQDRL08mvU** – the video this story is based upon. It takes a slightly different turn of events, but begins very much the same – with Dean in hospital, and Castiel worried sick…**

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**I Dreamed An Ending**

Castiel walked down the corridor, his mind racing. His mind rarely raced. He was usually so calm and collected. He'd been through many struggles, seen so many terrible things. He was an angel; it was only to be expected. But after so many years of friendship, love and loyalty, nothing could have quite prepared him for what he saw next as he turned a corner and entered the room where Dean lay.

He was on the bed, his shirt ripped open and several doctors all standing around him. There were electrodes attached to his bare chest and a tube in his mouth, neither of which offered Castiel any comfort. He knew little about the details of the human anatomy, much less about how doctors dealt with problems with that anatomy, but he knew enough to know that the tubes and wires were no cause for assurance.

He felt it too. He was worried by more than what he could see. He sensed it – he just knew, looking at Dean, that his demise would be soon. He could feel him slipping away.

He looked down at Dean, who was jerking violently, as the doctor obviously in charge of the situation thrust the defibrillator onto his chest, sending a powerful electric shock through his body in a desperate attempt to restart his heart. Cas looked at the mess in front him, knowing deep in his heart he couldn't resolve this situation. As he stared, watching this moment unfold, he found himself holding his breath, waiting, desperate for Dean to be okay. All of the thoughts racing through his mind were drowned out as he gazed at his old friend. No questions ran through his head, no more worries or doubts, no thoughts or speculation on the situation. All that was there was the intense rush of emotion that hit him so hard he lost all composure, and the intense pain and worry he felt showed clearly in his expression.

He glanced quickly up at the monitor, showing the terrifying flat line across its screen, his fear only intensifying as he watched, powerless to help.

A second later, as he stared intently at Dean's lifeless form on the bed, he heard the hopeful sound of beeps, the machine's audible reassurance that Dean's heart was finally beating. He glanced up again at the monitor, and breathed a momentary sigh of relief as he saw that the 'vital signs' were improving. Apparently that was a good thing.

He then turned and left the room, all the worried, frenzied thoughts rushing back into his head now that the momentary fear that Dean might be gone had dissipated. But he knew that Dean was going to die – there was no way he could survive. Cas could still feel him slowly slipping away. What would he do now? How had this happened? How would Sam react? How could either of them go on without him?

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Sam sat at Dean's side, tears welling up in his eyes as he looked down at his brother's lifeless form. He closed his eyes and tears began to fall down onto the hand that he cupped around his mouth, unable to take any more. His mind was flooded with thoughts of everything that had happened in the last few hours.

A few days ago Dean had told him he needed some time alone, then disappeared. Sam had been worried, but just let it be for a few hours. But when Dean wouldn't answer his phone Sam began to get _really_ worried. He searched everywhere, trying so desperately to find his brother, looking for some reason as to why he took off. He'd discovered, only hours too late, Dean's hotel room, where he found a spilled bottle of whiskey lying on the table and empty bottle of pills along with a box addressed Bobby. He frantically opened the box, and emptied its contents – all of Dean's things, which actually amounted to very little, along with a letter. But before he got the chance to open it, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Still desperately hopeful it might be Dean, he pulled it quickly from his back pocket, only to find a delayed email sent from his brother. His eyes widened in horror and tears began to well up as he slowly realised what it was saying. Too shocked to really do anything, he simply stood there for a moment, completely unsure of what to do.

Just then, a young girl appeared in doorway – the receptionist from downstairs. She looked up, her face stained with tears. "I'm… I'm sorry," was all she could manage.

Sam looked at her in horror, "What happened?" he asked.

When she said nothing he took a step towards her and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly as he raised his voice, completely frantic. "Where is he? What happened?"

"They… they took him away … in an ambulance!" she cried. "I'm sorry … I didn't know! He wasn't moving … he wasn't breathing. I didn't know what to do!"

"Where did they take him?" Sam almost yelled, still gripping her shoulders tightly.

"City...City General!" she replied, coughing a little, choking on her tears.

Sam quickly let go of her and ran out, pelting down the stairs and out the main door, leaving the receptionist shocked and upset. She slid down the doorway, collapsing to the floor as she brought her legs up to her chest and cried.

Sam had arrived at hospital less than ten minutes later to find Dean there, lying in a room, surrounded by tubes and pipes.

"I'm afraid his heart's damaged." The harrowing words of the doctor echoed in Sam's mind as he looked down at his brother now, hours later, still unable to comprehend why and how this had happened.

He looked up, and to his surprise saw Castiel standing in the doorway, who glanced first at Dean, then up at him. He nodded ever so slightly at him, then turned and walked away, waiting for him outside. Sam looked down for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts before he went out to speak to him, but there was so much spinning around in his head – so much worry and anger and frustration, so much hurt and confusion – that he could barely think.

Castiel waited for a moment, his own thoughts too much to handle, until Sam strode out of Dean's room and walked towards him, his body tense. Cas could see from the way he held himself that he was obviously worried and angry. Who wouldn't be, seeing his brother like that? He was feeling much the same things Cas himself had felt when he was in the same position – looking down at the only true brother he ever had, his one friend, knowing he was slipping away. But he took a breath, bracing himself, knowing he had to deliver even worse news to Sam, shattering his last, desperate hope.

"Sam -" he began, but Sam had no time for sentiments. He needed Dean back, now. He needed him to be okay.

"Get in there and heal him!" he said. His words formed a sentence, an obvious command, and yet his eyes pleaded, asking, _begging_ Cas to do it.

As Cas looked up at him, not saying anything for a moment, just searching for the right way to say it, Sam got frustrated, raising his voice slightly. "Miracle. Now!" he said, tears beginning to well up again as his voice almost broke, the intense pain clearly showing both on his face and in his voice.

"I can't!" Cas replied, more composed now he'd had time to adjust himself, though his mind still raced, full of intense emotions and worries.

"No." Sam said, rejecting Castiel's response. This was not an option. Dean had to get better; there was no other choice. Cas could do it! Why wouldn't he do it?

"And I am sorry!" Cas said, turning to glance at the room Dean was in. Though little of his emotion showed in his expression, there was so much hurt inside. He wished so desperately that he could do something to heal Dean, break the rules, disobey, cause chaos and havoc for the sake of his one friend. But he knew he couldn't. As much as he wanted to, there was no way, and that killed him inside – to know if it were up to him, Dean would be fine. The dark and unsatisfiable question pulled at his mind – what higher power, what kind of God did he serve? Though … he had been asking himself that question more often than not lately.

Sam took a breath to say something, but he didn't know what he wanted to say. There was nothing left. Dean was on the brink of death, and now his only other friend refused to help. Too angry and frustrated to do anything else, he turned and walked back into the room where his brother lay, clinging to life in his last few hours.

For almost two hours, Sam sat at Dean's side, just thinking, contemplating, trying desperately to think of something, _anything_ to help Dean. But nothing was coming. There was nothing he could do but sit and watch, completely helpless as his brother slowly died in front of him.

"I just wish you'd wake up." Sam whispered, his voice cracking as a tears spilled over and rolled slowly down his cheek. "There must be something I can do, some way I can save you...I just wish I could talk to you, you know? You got to say your goodbye to me, you sent your letter and your stupid email...but what about me? What if I need to say something to you, huh? You damn sure better wake up, Dean, cos I … I can't … not without you…" Sam broke off, unable to say anything else. He wiped his face with his hands and looked up, only to jump slightly as he saw Castiel sitting opposite him on the other side of the bed.

For a few moments they did nothing but stare at each other, then looked down at Dean, their love and worry for him uniting them. Then Sam looked up, having a sudden idea, one thought amongst all the mass of jumbled incoherent things that lingered in his mind, clearer than the rest. _He had to talk to Dean._ Above all else, that was the one thought that he could not even begin to push aside.

"Cas!" he said, looking across the bed at him. "I need to talk to him. If you can't save him, then please … I have to speak to him."

"Of course," Castiel said, only looking at Sam for a moment before standing up and moving towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

Cas looked down at him, a little confused. "You wish to speak with your brother alone … I'll give you that time alone if you want it. Dean only has minutes left."

Sam almost winced at the mention of time Dean 'had left', but quickly pushed it aside. "No. No, Cas I mean … you can go into people's dreams. I know you've done it with Dean before. It's one of your angel tricks, right?"

"If that's what you want to call it, then yes."

"Well, I need to talk to him."

"You wish me to take a message to him?" Castiel looked at him.

"No." Sam stood up, looking Cas in the eye. "I want you to take me!"

"You?" Cas looked at him for a moment, then sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Sam, I can't, I -"

"You can't heal him. Fine, but you have to let me talk to him! Please, Cas! You can take people anywhere you want to, at any time, so you can take me into Dean's head, into his dreams and let me talk to him!"

"Sam, it's different! The mind is a delicate thing -"

"Then be gentle!" Sam replied, moving closer.

"Very well," Cas said, looking at Dean for a moment. He contemplated everything he saw. This was a brother's love? The determination to get a chance to say goodbye, to do anything to save him? For a second, Cas felt a different sadness, completely separate from all the pain around Dean's imminent passing, as he thought how nice it would have been to have any of his brothers or sisters think of him in that way, to love him like Sam and Dean loved each other. They may be humans, but really, Sam and Dean were the only family he had. And now he was about to lose one of them, maybe even two if he wasn't careful.

"You'll need to lie down, Sam," he finally said, after a long pause. "This is going to be painful."

Sam looked up at him, surprised for a moment that Cas had needed such little pursuasion. Then he recovered himself and took a step back, sitting back down in his chair. He closed his eyes and a second later felt an intense pain searing through his entire body. He wanted to scream but he found he couldn't – his voice was gone. Everything was gone; he couldn't see or feel anything except the pain.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. For a moment Sam dared not open his eyes. His fingers moved up and down slightly as, with eyes still closed, he made sure he could feel and move.

He slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the light pouring into them. He stood there for a moment, completely surrounded by nothing but white. "Cas?" he asked, turning to look around. "Did it work?"

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Dean stood there, simply staring out at the scene in front of him. A park, one from his childhood and teenage years, was before him, the autumn leaves sprinkled all over the lush green grass, just as he remembered it, though it was never really as beautiful as this. There were no stray footballs, no dogs or people running around, no children screaming, just the scene as it was.

He breathed in deeply. He could almost feel Bobby there, with him. He could feel the excitement he'd felt so long ago when playing his first ever game of catch, with the man who was now like a second father to him. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in sharply through his nose, smelling the fresh, cool autumn air as he soaked himself in the moment.

Feeling someone behind him, as though they'd suddenly appeared, interrupting his beautiful moment, he turned, only to take a step back in surprise as he saw Cas and Sam standing before him.

"Sam? _Cas_?" he said, looking at them, a little confused. Then his body relaxed a little, "Yeah … of course…"

Castiel looked at him for a moment, and though his face was composed, the intense pain was clearly visible in his eyes, an expression of deep sadness and hopelessness.

"Dean, you're dreaming." Sam said, looking into his brother's eyes.

"Yeah...I know!" Dean said, looking even more confused. "Thank you captain obvious!"

"We came to talk," Cas interjected, from behind Sam.

"Wait … are you … the _actual_ Sam and Cas, not just my dying-dream-imagination Sam and Cas?" Dean said, taking a step forward, looking almost frustrated.

"Well … yeah," Sam replied, looking at him, his face contorted into a painful expression of the hurt and loss he was feeling. He paused for a moment, looking down, his eyes searching as though for some answers, working up the courage to ask what he had to.

Dean turned to look at Castiel, who simply turned and walked away, stopping several feet away from where Sam stood, staring intently at a large pine tree.

"Why'd you do it, Dean?" Sam asked, looking up.

Dean's face suddenly softened as his heart sank. The surly, 'give-'em-hell' attitude was gone, and all the pain he saw his brother and Cas feeling was now reflected in his own eyes. "No," he said, shaking his head. He put his hand on his mouth, as his lips pursed at the pain and anger that was beginning to surface. He turned away from Sam, looking instead at the park bench beside him, anything, anywhere but at his brother's eyes. "I did _not_ want to have this conversation…"

"That's not fair, Dean." Sam said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"So you got Cas to bring you into my head?" Dean asked, his frustration beginning to show as he raised his voice. "If I wanted to talk about it, I would have talked, Sam." he said, his voice beginning to crack as the emotion overwhelmed him.

"I don't care if you wanted to talk or not, Dean, you _should_ have! I'm your brother! I'm here to listen, even when you're talking crap! If I'd have known, even just anything … I could have helped. I could have stopped this!"

"I didn't want you to stop it Sam..." Dean's voice trailed off, disappearing, swallowed up by the audible pain. "I wanted to die!" There was a moment of intense and pain-filled silence between the two boys as they both stared down, unable to look at each other. Eventually Dean returned his gaze. "I mean, who wouldn't, after all we've been through? We've lost almost everyone we care about! We've lost Mom, Dad, Jess, Ellen, Jo, Rufus, Madison … anyone we get close to ends up dead. We're cursed, and I'm just sick of it! What's the point in going on, if you know how it's gonna end? And it's only gonna end bloody, Sam, in tears and pain and a living hell, for both of us. It's only a matter of time before we lose the only people we have left. If we do live through our hunting lives, do you really think we'll be able to live with all we've seen … all we've _done_?" He looked down, a tear sliding down his cheek and onto the grass near his feet. After some moments silence he looked up again, gazing into Sam's eyes, unable to tear himself away. "There's just no point, Sammy."

"Dean..." Sam took a step closer, desperate to convince him otherwise. But he found himself completely lost for words. He merely stared at Dean as they looked into each other, almost blankly, as though not really seeing each other.

Dean took a breath, "I've been broken so many times, there's nothing left of me! I'm so empty. There's nothing that can fill this void … because it doesn't end! You know, Sammy, I'd love to tell myself this will all be over some day, but that's just bullshit! You and I both know this darkness that's been lingering over our heads since birth, this storm, this … destiny or whatever … it's never gonna pass! So we've just gotta live with it." Another tear fell from his eye. Dean clasped his hand to his mouth, wiping away the tears with his fingers, pausing for a moment. Eventually he spoke again. "Well … I can't!"

"Dean … please, come back with me! I'm begging you! You say you can't live this life – Imagine what it's going to be like for me, without you!" Sam paused, as though bracing himself for what he was about to say next. "Dean … please. I can't … not without you. I …" He broke off, a tear rolling down his cheek. He stopped himself for a moment, wiping it away.

But before he could say another word, Cas touched his arm. "We have to go," he said, glancing for a moment over at Dean, who was unable to look him in the eye.

"I'm not leaving without Dean!" Sam said, his gaze still fixed on his brother.

"Sam, if you're still here with Dean passes on, you could end up going with him!" Cas insisted, "And even if you don't, you will have to live the rest of your life with the memory of experiencing your brother's death with him! Passing on is not peaceful, Sam, not when you're supposed to be staying! I don't even know if you'll survive."

"I don't care." Sam said, finally turning to look at Cas.

"We have to go. Dean has minutes left, if that! Look around you!"

They turned to look around, only to realise that there were no more trees, and the lake beyond the grass was gone. Nothing but empty darkness lingered above their heads. Sam looked up in horror as he realised the sky had disappeared.

"Go, Sam," Dean said, looking up at Sam, then turning to Cas. Though he was talking to Sam, his gaze remained fixed on Cas. "This is ending, right here, right now. I'm gonna die. I don't want you to die too." he said, turning to face his brother.

"No. Dean, don't say that! I'm not leaving without you!" Sam said, his voice breaking as he spoke.

"I'm not coming back, Sam. Even if I wanted to, how could I?"

"Please …" Sam said, staring at him, more tears now spilling down his cheek. "I've already lost you enough times! I can't lose you again!"

"Sam, I …" But now it was Dean's turn to find himself utterly lost for words. He turned his head slightly as he looked into his brother's eyes, tears beginning to flow from his own. After a long pause, he took a step forward and embraced his brother, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

Sam gripped his brother tight, and as they both stood there, completely lost in that moment that seemed to last forever, they both cried, like they never had before. They both trembled as the tears flowed, knowing deep inside they were saying their last goodbye. There was no coming back from this. The best they could possibly hope for was a trip upstairs.

There was no need for words, no need for apologies. The pain of knowing they were leaving each other, never to see one another again, was too much. It overwhelmed them as they stood there, in a tight and emotional embrace, both their shoulders now wet from the tears which refused to cease.

Everything around them turned to white, as the dream began to completely disintegrate. No ground beneath their feet, no colour, no life, just the intense love and pain that it brought as they gripped each other as tight as they could, unable to let go.

As everything around them glowed white, Sam braced himself for the death he was about to experience with his older brother, blissfully unaware of anything else, just caught up in this horrific yet beautiful moment with Dean. His last moment. His very last chance to say anything. And yet, there were no words he would even want to think of. No words would suffice in this instance, there was nothing he could say to possibly express, better than this tearful embrace, what he meant to him, and how difficult it was going to be without him.

As they stood there, unaware of anything but each other, and about to die, Sam felt a hand firmly grip his arm. He barely noticed it, until it began to pull and suddenly he was ripped from his brother's side.

"Dean!" he screamed as he was forced away, and watched his brother drift apart from him, consumed by the white light that almost blinded Sam. He reached out, fighting against the arm which pulled so heavily on him. "DEAN!"

Sam screamed his brother's name, his arm outstretched as he awoke, soaked in a mixture of sweat and tears. He collapsed to his knees, completely overwhelmed with emotion, and trembling all over. A hand took hold of him from behind and pulled him up, the same arm which had ripped him from his brother's side. He turned round, breathing deeply, and saw Castiel.

"Cas..." he breathed, then turned to look back at where he was, a look of horror on his face as he realised where he was and what had just happened. "No!"

He scrambled up off the floor and ran out the door of the room Dean was in and down the corridor until he came to the doorway to the room. He didn't stop for a moment, but started to run in there, desperate to be with him.

But a doctor appeared in front of him, stopping him from entering. "I'm sorry," he said, looking up into his eyes.

"No, that's my brother!" he almost shouted as he gripped the doctor's shoulders and moved him out of the way. But another two people appeared in front of him, dragging him out, telling him over and over that he had to stand back, he couldn't be there, and they were very sorry. As they pushed him into the wall, a few feet away from the room, Sam finally stopped struggling as his whole body went limp, just looking at his brother on the bed.

Medical staff were all around him, one leaning over him, pushing down with both hands into his chest, as he convulsed on the bed.

"Dean..." he breathed, too weak to shout anymore.

A wave of emotion hit him and he stumbled again, unsteady on his feet as a deep silence washed over him, blocking everything out. All he could hear was his own heart beating doubly fast, his own heavy breathing as he waited, watching as his brother died.

"I'll call it." a voice said from somewhere far away. "Time of death...5:36 p.m."

Now that he had calmed down, unable to fight anymore, and the doctors were beginning to leave the room, the men holding him back began to loosen their holds. They backed away, sensitive to what he must be feeling. But they had no idea...

Sam took a step forwards, still quite unsteady. "That's my brother …" he whispered weakly as he staggered towards Dean's room, where he leaned against the doorframe, new tears rolling freely and uncontrolled down his cheeks. "That's … that's my brother," he whispered, almost inaudibly as he stared at his now lifeless form. "Dean…"

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**Special thanks to Andara-chan67 for beta reading this for me, and to Andrea (Nyah86Production – youtube) for the countless amazing and inspiring videos (and letting me steal your ideas! …)**


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